


That of Your Sister, That of Your Niece

by s0vereign



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Dark Sun Gwyndolin and Bronze Knightess, Mentions of Pontiff Sulyvahn and Saint Aldrich, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12548236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0vereign/pseuds/s0vereign
Summary: An estranged uncle meets his niece high above the frozen landscape of Irithyll.Inspired by the Gwyn family headcanons of Tumblr RP friends.Also, I just wanted to write about the Nameless King wrapping up little Yorshka in his scarf, stuff like that is adorable.





	That of Your Sister, That of Your Niece

**Author's Note:**

> Ain't it funny that I roleplay as the Nameless King but still haven't played Dark Souls 3? I hope there won't be obvious lore mistakes, though I will say that I personally headcanon Gwyndolin as a trans woman and ship Dolin/Bronze Knightess. Consequently, I have Gwyndolin being more of a mother figure to Yorshka rather than 'brother' from the game dialogue. Of course, Dark Souls has always been pretty ambiguous about its lore so I am open to (and eager to hear about) other people's different headcanons. I only ask that you respect headcanons of mine and friends who share similar thoughts. Thanks!

She reminded you so much of your sister. Of the youngest of them: Gwyndolin. From the distance, you could see the resemblance in her pale and slender form, sitting proudly at attention -  _As a Captain of the Darkmoon Blades should_ , you mused. You had to sort through your memories to recall who she was, though. Visiting your sisters, and their children, had been a rare occasion after all… _Yorshka_ , that was her name. The memories of your sister cradling her tiny form, humming lullabies with the Knightess, had been what had finally helped you remember your niece.

But Yorshka was no longer an infant swaddled in soft wool and linens. When you flew closer to the tower, you could see her willowy limbs and sharp claws, again reminiscent of your sister. Gwyndolin had always had milky eyes, though, under that golden mask and crown of hers. Her cataracts would have caused complete blindness if not for her snakes. Yorska instead had bright eyes, pale blue and piercing like winter’s ice. They bore into your own dark blue ones through her veils, almost accusingly… Almost as if they were demanding why you had come so late, why you had not been here to stop the Pontiff and Saint Aldrich, why you had not helped prevent the ruin of Anor Londo. 

Lords, did she even know what had happened to her mothers? Had that damn tyrant kept her up here all this time without any knowledge she would have been fed to-

“N-Name thyself, stranger.” Your niece broke your train of thought and slowly raised a hand to gesture to herself. “I am Yorshka, Captain of the Darkmoon Knights. What beckoned thee to such a place?“

Your heart nearly broke at her trembling voice. She was afraid, she did not recognize you at all. And Caderyn’s presence was not helping with the situation. Though Yorska was impressively maintaining her composure, you could see the girl’s gaze flitter nervously between you and the stormdrake. Obviously, Caderyn needed to land somewhere, his wings would distract from the conversation between niece and uncle. They would also draw attention to the tower so high and exposed here… Saint Aldrich might have been defeated, for now, but his and the Pontiff’s followers were still wandering about the place. After a few moments of thought, you brought Caderyn closer to the edge of the balcony so that you could dismount and send him off to land around the corner. 

Towering over your niece now, you decided to kneel and place your swordspear on the ground. Her eyes still pierced you through as you addressed her. “I… am Lord Gwynfor. Guardian of Archdragon Peak and brother to the Dark Sun Gwyndolin.” _It is too soon to say the_ late  _Dark Sun,_ you thought,  _far too soon_. “My companion there is Caderyn, King of the Storm.”

“’Brother…?’” Yorska slightly furrowed her brows, the iridescent scales on her face glittering as they shifted. After a few moments, her tail and neck tendrils suddenly shook with her realization. “Oh-  _Uncle_! Mother always talked about you and your dragon, though I had almost forgot, it’s been- Ah, hmm.” Quickly as she had suddenly burst into conversation, she resumed her professional facade. Across her lap, she quickly folded her hands. 

You noticed now that your niece seemed melancholy, her neck tendrils drooping after she finished her outburst. Gently smiling, you could only say, “Please, it is alright, Yorshka. I haven’t visited your mothers in a long while. Frankly, I am surprised you recognized me after all.”

“Dost thou- I mean,” she fidgeted with her fingers, “Do you know where Mother and Mama are, Uncle?”

“Alas, no.” A lie but… you could not bear to see your niece’s expression if she heard the truth now of all times.

“Then… I shall continue to wait for them-”

“ _No_ -!” Too harsh, too loud, you could feel shame from having made your own niece flinch. “I apologize but… No, I do not think that would be a wise decision. The Pontiff has imprisoned you here, a lonely tower with nothing but snowflakes and howling winds for company. Your mothers would wish for you to escape. I, and of course Caderyn, will help you.”

Yorska frowned disapprovingly. “I cannot abandon them nor can I abandon my duties as a covenant captain. Surely you could take me down from my tower though. Then I may summon my Blades to fight the Pontiff and his forces.” Looking off towards Irithyll, she sighed before looking back to you. “And rescue Mother and Mama.”

Lords, the girl was about as committed to her duties as Gwyndolin! You would have been exasperated by her determination had you not known how _worried_ she was for her mothers. But it was not safe to stay here. Aldrich was currently disabled but still barely alive - the Pontiff would be looking for someone to feed him soon enough. A divine, obviously, someone to replace the now destroyed remains of the Dark Sun.

“While I admire your dedication, I must stress again that your mothers would want you to escape. Especially while Pontiff Sulyvahn still governs this place with his beasts and his knights.” You stood now to your full height, weapon in hand, and signaled to Caderyn to prepare for flight. 

Sighing, you turned back to Yorshka. “You are no longer a child so I will not force you to do anything. But, _please_ , come with me. For _their_ sakes.” Waving off to the horizon, you then gestured to the moon. “Also, I trust that you have been capable -more than capable- a Captain in your mother’s place. Your Blades shall work tirelessly as they have been. Leader or no leader.”

There was hesitation, a worrying of her lips and another furrowing of her brows. Yorshka kept fidgeting with her hands and picking at her scales anxiously as well. Because she was taking so long, Caderyn had time to launch from the tower and return to the balcony. The stormdrake was snorting impatiently now. You continued waiting for a verbal answer nonetheless. After a few more minutes, your niece finally rose from her wooden chair. She smoothed down her dress and stood to her full height just below your chest.

“Promise me one thing and then I shall leave with you.”

“What shall that thing be,” you asked.

“Come back here and find them. Whatever is… left of them, should my mothers not be alive.” Something dark flashed through her grey-blue eyes. “You do not need to fight the tyrant nor that false saint on their behalf. I wish to do it myself, but you may help me when the time comes, Uncle.”

You solemnly nodded before placing a clenched hand over your heart. “I swear in the name of the Moon and its Goddess: Once I have taken you to Archdragon Peak, I will return to Irithyll and search for them.”

With the promise made, Yorshka readily approached the edge of the balcony to board Caderyn. You gently pulled back on her shoulder, though, making your stormdrake huff again with impatience. Snorting back at your ride, you began unraveling your scarf from your neck. The cloth had tattered and faded in color, but it was still thick and warm, not to mention long enough to wrap around something several times.

“I can’t imagine how you have become accustomed to the winter here, but… it will be far chillier once we are flying. Here. I can help wrap my scarf around you, take this end first though.”

“Ah, thank you… I suppose I should tuck in my skirts and veils before the flight too.”

Overall, Yorshka looked as though she was wearing layers of robes. She took a few moments more to adjust the scarf to her comfort levels as you boarded Caderyn. When she finally boarded, you had your niece sit in front of you. She could then hold on to the stormdrake’s mane and have little risk of falling off like she would have if she had sat behind you. Also, she could have a splendid view of the surrounding landscape. Really, once Caderyn took off, you had to hold back a laugh. Yorshka kept craning her neck to admire the architecture below. Evidently, the girl was not afraid of heights! 

But her eagerness to see the world around her only became a reminder of how _isolated_ she had been. Would Yorshka enjoy being isolated again on Archdragon Peak? High mountains were no different that tall towers after all. Of course, she would not be so lonely surrounded by the serpent-men and the Dragon Apostles, but they did not so easily warm to strangers. Not to mention, she still obviously missed her mothers… 

You shook your head as Caderyn finally cleared the barrier of Irithyll. _There would be time to fulfill your promises as there would be time to worry about the future._  Right now, you could at least fulfill Gwyndolin’s last wishes, the ones she had struggled to whisper once she had been severed from that disgusting Saint. Sobs nearly rose in your throat though. You remembered her other final request. A reminder of your shortcomings as a brother. A reminder of your failure. Looking down at your niece, you told yourself you would not fail so as an uncle. Yorshka was finally experiencing freedom, a chance to breathe outside of the Pontiff’s choking hold. As long as you were alive, you would ensure her protection to honor your sister’s memory.


End file.
